


we can follow the sparks

by earlgrey_milktea



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Brazil Meeting, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Hinata has a lot of exes, M/M, Oikawa POV Freeform, Oikawa tries to be helpful about it, lots of portuguese and spanish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:41:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27517045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgrey_milktea/pseuds/earlgrey_milktea
Summary: Oikawa is resigned to having an awfully boring time at this wedding—that is until a familiar, strikingly handsome ginger plops into his lap, flashing him an awkward smile.“Very sorry about this, Grand King,” Hinata says in a rush of words, before leaning in to kiss him right on the mouth.OR, an alternate way Hinata and Oikawa could have met in Brazil.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 63
Kudos: 543





	we can follow the sparks

**Author's Note:**

> OiHinaWeek Day 2 & 4: Brazil/Fake Dating AU

Oikawa drums his fingers lightly against the elegant linen cloth covering the table, taking another generous sip of his champagne as his eyes survey the guests milling about around him—the sound of their loud laughter and obnoxious gossip is almost enough to make him visibly roll his eyes.

The only reason why he decided to attend this wedding was as a favor to his teammate, Ignacio. Their team had the week off, and the ever persuasive libero deemed it necessary that they all spend it together celebrating his cousin’s wedding in Brazil.

"Vamos, Tooru, vai ser divertido!" The shorter man had urged, pulling up the picture of the invite on his phone so that he could show off the spectacular views of the beachfront venue the wedding would be held at. And not one turn down an opportunity to travel and dress-up, Oikawa had been pretty easy to convince, already making note of the dates and wondering which of his suits would look best in the backdrop of a Brazilian sunset.

After much deliberation—and several pictures and texts sent to Iwaizumi and the others that mostly go ignored—he decides on a light, charcoal gray one. It's custom and slim-fit, and paired with the silky navy blue tie around his neck over his crisp, collared white button-down, Oikawa is feeling pretty good about himself.

Or he _would_ be, anyway...if he wasn't _bored_ _out of his mind_.

The problem is that, aside from his own teammates, he doesn’t really know anyone. Ignacio is catching up with his family, Cristian and Alexis disappeared with their own dates at some point after the ceremony—probably to find a secluded corner somewhere, Oikawa really doesn’t want to look for them and find out—while the rest of the team appeared to be trying to charm their way through the members of the bridal party.

Oikawa spends a good few minutes watching their failed attempts from afar with mild amusement before he realizes that he's alone at his table and feeling a little bit out-of-place. A few nearby guests cast him curious glances and when they approach him, asking something in Portuguese that he doesn't quite understand, Oikawa smiles politely and shrugs his shoulders with his palms turned outwards, in what he hopes, is the universal way of saying _'Sorry, I don't understand.'_

The language barrier is something that he deals with on a daily basis back in Argentina. And while Oikawa has pored over the books and the videos, determined to teach himself Spanish like his own pride is on the line, he would be lying if he said that he wasn't insecure about his ability to speak it. He hates the way the foreign words sound on his tongue—awkward and choppy and nothing like the smooth enunciation that seems to flow naturally when the natives around him speak.

Inadequacy is not a feeling Oikawa is accustomed to, and neither is the lack of self-assurance. But the anxiety of mispronouncing a word or phrasing something incorrectly gets under his skin, and more often than not, Oikawa finds himself going quiet in social situations and speaking up less than he would like.

It’s not like him at all, and frankly, his own insecurity about it kind of pisses him off, but Oikawa works harder at it all the same. He practices with his teammates and hires a tutor on the weekends. When he's cooking at home, he makes sure that the TV playing in the background is tuned to his favorite telenovela—because it's much easier to learn Spanish when the characters are dramatically yelling it at one another—and he tries his best not to rely on the subtitles as he follows along. Oikawa knows he's getting better when he can read the menu at a restaurant and order his own food without difficulties, and it's reflected on the court when he's able to yell at Cristian to get ready to hit the ball from across the net and the spiker is already there and jumping when he sets it.

But now he's in Brazil, and it seems like he's out of his element once again.

_'No entiendo!'_ Oikawa wants to call out to the guests when they walk away, but instead he downs the rest of his champagne and wonders if maybe he should have brought his own date, if just to have something to do to pass the time. He could have had his pick, no doubt, of the girls and guys back in Argentina that expressed interest in him.

Yet, something made him reluctant to do so. Even despite how attractive and appealing his partners had been at the time, those who sparked his interest never lasted for more than one or two dates, and it was never long before Oikawa found himself restless and uncomfortable in their presence. He wonders when the last time he was in an actual, swear-to-god, relationship, and his mind embarrassingly blanks.

Maybe he’s just going through something, Oikawa thinks idly to himself, eyeing his now empty glass of champagne with a resigned look and wondering if the line to the bar has dwindled down a bit.

He’s about to pull out his phone, just to have something to do to save him from his impending boredom, when suddenly he hears footsteps fast approaching him.

Oikawa looks up just in time to see striking hazel eyes before there’s a solid weight dropping onto his lap, causing the wind to get knocked out of him. He reflexively reaches out to grab at the slim waist that settles on his thighs in an attempt to steady himself, and when he opens his mouth to protest, Oikawa can't help but freeze in place.

Because he _knows_ those eyes. He recognizes that vibrant, orange hair.

“C-Chibi-chan?”

Hinata flashes him an awkward smile in greeting, as if to say _'fancy seeing you here',_ before he's adjusting his body so that he's half-turned with both legs hanging off the side of Oikawa's lap, and reaching up to lightly tug at the gray collar of his suit. 

“Very sorry about this, Grand King,” Hinata says in a rush of words, and before Oikawa can even begin to ask what is happening, the orange-haired man is darting forward and slanting his mouth against his own.

Oikawa immediately stiffens under the unexpected onslaught, opening his mouth in surprise when Hinata licks at the seam of his lips with a skillful tongue. There are questions swirling in his head—important ones—like, _'What the fuck is happening?'_ , and _'What is Chibi-chan doing here?',_ and _'Woah, who knew he could kiss like this?'_

Most notably, Oikawa asks himself why he hasn't even thought to stop it.

But the last one is fairly easy to answer given the way his body is reacting to the smaller man's careful ministrations, and Hinata doesn’t seem to be feeling generous enough to give him an explanation, seeming to much prefer nipping at his bottom lip than helping ease Oikawa’s growing confusion.

The sound of someone gasping behind them causes Oikawa to finally remember where exactly they are, and Hinata regretfully pulls away, face flushed and lips slick, to look over and see several of the surrounding guests gaping at them in shock. But there’s one individual who seems more affected by the display than anyone else.

"Shouyou?"

Oikawa watches curiously when a tall man steps forward. He doesn’t recognize him, but Oikawa can’t help but feel a little peeved when he notes that the guy’s effortlessly handsome in the way that people in Brazil apparently all were. His longer, dark hair is swept back, and there’s a distinct frown on his face, eyebrows furrowed, as he stares intently at the man in his lap. But Hinata doesn’t move, seemingly quite content where he’s sitting as he looks back at the man with a tilt of his head.

Unwittingly, Oikawa feels like a character in one of his Spanish telenovelas— _the attractive other guy that the main heroine uses to make her love interest jealous?!_ —and he hopes that this one doesn't end with him getting slapped across the face in a heated exchange.

"Quem é ele? Eu pensei que você não trouxe um encontro?" The man asks, looking questioningly between Hinata and Oikawa.

“Oh, Gabriel!” Hinata responds in an almost airy tone as he waves his hand from the guy and then back to Oikawa, “Eu não te disse? Este é meu namorado, Tooru!”

Oikawa tries not to let his own confusion show on his face, and he’s careful to keep his features carefully blank, even as his mind scrambles in an attempt to decipher what exactly is being said.

“Tooru?” The guy— _Gabriel_ —says dubiously, giving him a squinted look that Oikawa returns with a sickly-sweet smile. He might not know what’s going on, but he can tell when he’s being measured up, and he’s not about to pass up an opportunity to be an asshole about it.

Hinata shoots him a pleading look out of the corner of his eye, and Oikawa gets the hint well-enough to know what to do next.

_Play along._

Oikawa tugs Hinata even closer, the hands on his hips dropping lower to generously squeeze at the curve of his bottom, causing the smaller man to yelp and almost jump out of his lap in response. Hinata’s scandalized expression makes Oikawa bite back an amused chuckle, pleased for the opportunity to turn the tables on him.

Because if Chibi-chan wants a show, he would give him a show all right.

At this angle, he has perfect access to the soft, freckled skin of Hinata’s cheek, and Oikawa doesn’t hesitate to lean forward to press an obnoxious, exaggerated kiss right on one of his dimples. He hopes the resounding smack is loud enough enough to hear over the sound of music and noise around them. 

“Sim! Somos velhos amigos do Japão que se reacenderam depois de muito tempo!” Hinata answers, once he’s gotten over his initial surprise, and he hooks an arm around Oikawa’s neck to bring his body flush against his own.

Whatever Hinata says makes Gabriel’s expression drop even further, and now the man looks less angry and more so just disappointed. And more for his own enjoyment than anything else, Oikawa proceeds to lean forward and rest his chin in the crook of Hinata’s shoulder. He won’t admit it out loud, but he kind of likes the feeling of Hinata in his arms. He’s so small and compact, and sort of just _fits_ in a way that has Oikawa relishing the contact.

“Oh. Eu...espero que vocês sejam felizes juntos,” Gabriel finally says, after a long moment. He runs a hand through his hair and takes a step back. “Eu te vejo por aí, Shouyou.” 

He gives them one last contemplative look, like he wants to say something else, before he turns around and walks away. Hinata stays silent as he watches the guy disappear into the crowd of guests, who have at this point averted their gazes so as to not make their eavesdropping quite so blatant.

Once he's out of sight, Hinata lets out a loud sigh, shoulders slumping as if a great weight has been lifted off of them, and when he looks back at Oikawa, there is gratitude shining in his hazel eyes.

“So, Chibi-chan, I know it’s been a while, but...” Oikawa begins, voice teasing as he lifts a brow at him, “I hope you don’t make a habit out of greeting people this way.”

Hinata flushes adorably, as if the realization of what he has done hits him just then. “I—No! Of course not. It was a complicated situation, and I needed an out.”

“And _I_ was your out?” Oikawa doesn’t know whether to be flattered or offended by the remark.

“Er, yes,” Hinata says, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. He bites the inside of his cheek before looking back at him, still blushing, as he adds, “Thanks, by the way. And, um...sorry?” 

Hinata looks like he’s prepared for a blow, with the way his shoulders hunch in on himself, and his expression turns into a wince. Oikawa supposes that maybe he should have been more upset at being essentially taken advantage of in the moment, but he can’t find it in himself to actually be angry or even remotely upset by what took place.

In fact, he really wouldn't mind doing it _again._

“Glad to be of service, I guess,” Oikawa answers instead, indicating to Hinata that there are no hard feelings between them, and the orange-haired man’s expression immediately lightens at that. “Who was that guy, by the way? Ex-boyfriend?”

“Not even,” Hinata sighs again, rolling his eyes, “More like the one-night-stand from hell.”

That’s not quite the answer Oikawa is expecting, and he gives Hinata a sort of impressed, appraising look. “I’m surprised, Chibi-chan. Didn’t take you to be that kind of guy.”

Hinata’s expression turns coy at that, and when he looks up at him through long lashes, his smile becomes noticeably cryptic. “It’s been quite a few years, Grand King,” Hinata says, his tone playful, “You don’t really know what kind of guy I am anymore.” 

And the implications of his words sends a spark of heat and interest straight to Oikawa’s belly. He smirks back, razor-sharp.

“Is that so?”

Hinata continues to smile demurely at him, lifting himself up from his lap, and part of Oikawa wants to reach out and tug him right back, but he stops himself. ‘ _What kind of guy are you then, Chibi-chan?’_ He finds himself contemplating, watching as Hinata straightens himself out and adjusts the lapels on the light blue suit he’s wearing. Oikawa finds his eyes involuntarily traveling down the other man’s form, taking note of the way Hinata’s fit profile seems to be further accentuated now that he’s standing.

Distantly, Oikawa realizes that he’s blatantly checking the other man out and isn’t even trying to be discreet about it. But, well, they’ve technically already made out at this point, so it seems almost silly to be embarrassed about anything else after the fact.

He thinks that Hinata is about to call him out on it when the other man’s gaze is drawn to something just behind him and his eyes widen like he’s just seen a ghost. Curious, Oikawa follows his gaze to see a _different_ man eyeing them from afar with a familiar look of shock and alarm.

“Oikawa-san,” Hinata suddenly says, his tone hopeful, “What if I asked you to be my date for the night?”

His expression is almost pleading as his hazel eyes move from the other man and back to Oikawa, causing the latter to shake his head in disbelief. 

“Don’t tell me,” Oikawa responds, already stepping into place by Hinata’s side and wrapping an arm around the smaller man's shoulders. “Another ex?”

Hinata coughs awkwardly into his fist, and his embarrassed reaction is answer enough. Oikawa wants to laugh as a thought occurs to him.

“Chibi-chan. Just how many of your exes are at this wedding?”

Hinata stiffens, flashing him a strained sort of half-smile. “Are they really exes if they only lasted a night?”

Oikawa’s answering squawk sends the orange-haired man through a fit of abashed laughter. “I promise it’s not as bad as it sounds!”

“So, you’re _not_ using me to avoid talking to a bunch of strange men that you’ve slept with?” Oikawa asks, narrowing his eyes playfully.

Hinata opens his mouth to protest and freezes, like he really doesn’t have anything to say in response to that, and Oikawa hums definitively under his breath. “I see.”

“Oikawa-san! I promise to make it up to you!” Hinata says earnestly, and then he pauses to shoot Oikawa a knowing look, nudging him in the side with his elbow. “Besides, I think I’m doing _you_ a favor, too.”

Oikawa briefly wonders if Hinata is referring to the kissing. “How so?”

Hinata grins up at him. “Well, you looked so bored before I came up to you. I’d like to think that your night has gotten a little bit more exciting now that I’ve come along.”

Well, _that_ is an understatement, and Oikawa can't help but laugh at being promptly called out. “Okay. You got me. I _suppose_ I can pretend to be your date for a little longer, Shou-chan,” Oikawa says, making sure that his voice sounds especially put-upon, as if he isn't internally gleeful at the prospect.

“Really?!” 

“Really.”

“I’ll be the _best_ fake date you’ve ever had,” Hinata says seriously, giving him a thumbs up and a determined look, and Oikawa shakes his head fondly, pulling him close as the man who watches them from across the room seems to take a hint and turn away.

“I don’t know,” Oikawa teases, looking down at the younger man, “You already tried to stick your tongue down my throat. You’re not off to a great start.”

Hinata clutches at his chest in dismay, eyes wide. “I’ll be a gentleman, Oikawa-san, I promise!”

Oikawa is not quite sure if that's what he even wants, but he smiles back regardless and winks.

“Call me Tooru, and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

-

Throughout the night, Hinata is nothing but true to his word.

Oikawa soon learns that the other man appears to know almost _everyone_ at the wedding. Apparently the groom is Hinata’s beach volleyball partner, Heitor, and the two are quite close friends. It now makes much more sense why so many of Hinata’s exes are present at the wedding—they are all 'friends of friends of friends'—which really was just a more polite way of saying that Hinata knew how to _get around_.

As they walk around the room, Hinata takes the time to introduce him to several people passing by. There are a few notable gentleman that closely eye the way Oikawa's arm is draped around Hinata's shoulder, and the brunette makes sure to act extra affectionate without needing to be prompted—dropping a kiss on Hinata's forehead and leaning down to whisper something in Hinata's ear. The shorter man takes it all in stride, and the only evidence of a reaction is the ever present blush on his cheeks even as he effortlessly mingles with the other guests who greet him excitedly with smiles and pats on the back. 

“Ninja Shouyou!”

“Olá!”

“Oi, Shouyou! Quem é?”

“Este é meu encontro, Tooru!”

It's when they stop to get something to drink at the bar that Oikawa finds himself comparing this Hinata to the nervous shrimp he remembers back from high school.

The Hinata from before was a whirlwind of excitable energy—quick to provoke and just as easy to intimidate. He had been _interesting_ , Oikawa remembers thinking. But the man standing before him now, chatting animatedly in Portuguese to someone beside them, is miles away from the boy he had once been. This Hinata might be just as outgoing and bright, but something about the way he carries himself exudes a confidence and easy-going demeanor that has Oikawa's eyes straying to his form every chance he can get.

He’s kind of _hot_ ,Oikawa realizes in surprise as he catches himself watching Hinata wrap his lips around a cold bottle of beer, slightly tilting his head back to take long pulls of the amber-colored beverage within. _Very hot_.

The memory of Hinata's lips on his burns its way through his mind in startling clarity as he watches him, and Oikawa has to mentally cool himself off with thoughts of the weather and what he had for breakfast that morning before his body can react embarrassingly to his previous line of thinking. When he finally gets a hold of himself, Oikawa realizes that at some point, Hinata had somehow initiated an impromptu Brazilian drinking game between himself and the other surrounding guests. The ginger-haired man is in the middle of explaining the rules to him, and Oikawa nods his head along as though he's been paying attention the entire time.

“The game is simple—you can’t say the word _‘no’_. So, if someone pours you a drink, you have to think of an alternate way of turning it down, or you’re forced to drink it. Make sense?”

Seems simple enough, and Oikawa says as much out loud. Hinata beams at him and leans over the bar to say something to the bartender, who smiles genially in turn and grabs several shot glasses from behind him and places them on the counter in front of them. 

“Diverta-se!” The bartender tells Hinata with a wink as he hands him a bottle of top-shelf tequila.

Hinata grins as he expertly opens the bottle and pours a generous amount in each of the glasses before sliding them in front of the guests partaking in the game. He turns to Oikawa and hands him his own glass, their fingers lightly brushing as he takes it from him. 

“Now, Oikawa-san, since you don’t speak Portguese, we’ll just have to get creative and think of other ways you can say ‘no’,” Hinata says, smiling impishly when Oikawa's expression becomes challenging in turn.

It's five shots in—his feet becoming unsteady and his words slurring together—when Oikawa realizes that he’s somehow forgotten _how_ to say the word ‘no’ in Hinata’s presence and he wonders if he's been _had_. 

“Oh! O que é isso? Se divertindo sem nós?” A boisterous female voice calls out from behind him, and everyone turns around to see the beautiful bride herself standing there with her hands on her hips. Hinata lets out an excited ‘whoop’ and hooks an arm around her shoulders, handing her the bottle of tequila with his other hand.

The entire bar erupts into cheers when the bride brings the bottle to her lips and drinks the tequila straight from the bottle. 

“Shouyou,” Nice says, once she’s passed the bottle onto another guest. The blonde looks at the orange-haired man at her side and gestures to Oikawa who is standing just a few feet away with a friendly wink in his direction. “Você vai me apresentar ao seu amigo aqui?”

Hinata grins at her and nods his head rapidly. “Nice, este é Tooru. Tooru, this is Nice!”

Oikawa smiles and offers his hand out to the bride, and Nice grasps it firmly as she gives him a slow and assessing onceover. She’s smirking when she leans in close to Hinata and whispers something in the redhead’s ear, causing him to splutter and turn bright red in response. She throws her head back laughing at Hinata's reaction, and before she leaves to find where her groom has disappeared to, she pats Oikawa lightly on the cheek and says, "You two have fun," in English, making Oikawa blink after her curiously.

Hinata still refuses to repeat what was said even after, when they decide to get some fresh air outside on the balcony. They're both leaning against the railing and marveling at the view of the beach, the cool evening air and gentle sounds of the waves crashing below them is a stark contrast to the raucous party going on inside. 

“So, the Argentinian League, huh?” Hinata asks as the wind picks up some of the loose strands of his hair. Oikawa finds himself admiring the way the moonlight is reflected in his hazel eyes as he turns to smile at him.

“Yeah, you impressed, Chibi-chan?”

“Of course I am,” Hinata says definitively, shaking his head, “The Grand King has always been so cool.”

“I thought I told you to call me Tooru,” Oikawa corrects, trying not to show how immensely pleased he is at Hinata's praise.

“Only when you stop calling me Chibi-chan,” Hinata challenges, sticking out his tongue.

“Fine. _Shouyou_ ,” Oikawa says with a roll of his eyes, unable to help the smile that tugs at the corner of his lips when he sees Hinata nod in satisfaction. “You know, I thought I was doing something really far out there by going overseas…”

Oikawa thinks of everything he’s done to get to where he is now—leaving home, traveling to a foreign country, and working his ass off to make a name for himself. And yet, Hinata has essentially done that and then some. “...But here you are in Brazil playing beach volleyball and starting completely from scratch. You’re...kind of crazy, you know that?”

Hinata chuckles, shrugging his shoulders as he looks off into the water. “If I want to get better then I have to challenge my own limits. I want to learn _everything_. I want to be the _best_. And I couldn’t do that back home.”

The words are so reminiscent of the advice José Blanco had given him all those months ago that Oikawa can’t help but stare back at the other man with growing respect and awe.

“You can't afford to be held back. I get it.”

"Yeah," Hinata confirms and quirks another smile at him, eyes glinting bright in the dark of the evening sky. "I knew you would."

And for the first time in a long time, Oikawa feels like he's truly _seen_. Here's someone that _really_ gets it—the drive, the ambition, the need to prove himself _._ He wants to voice out the impossible, fluttery feeling growing in his chest out loud, wants to take Hinata by the arms and maybe convey it in some other way, when the voice of the DJ projects over the loud speakers informing them that dinner is about to be served.

"I guess we should head back," Oikawa says, wondering why he's all of a sudden feeling disappointed. As if sensing a change in his demeanor, Hinata cocks his head to the side to stare back at him, before a mischievous smile stretches on his lips.

Oikawa squints his eyes at him suspiciously. "...What?" 

Instead of answering, Hinata darts forward and grabs his hand, pulling him off of the balcony and into the ballroom and making a beeline to the corner of the room where a small photo booth has been set up. Oikawa doesn't have time to protest before Hinata is sliding inside and tugging soundly on his arm so that Oikawa has no choice but to follow after him. The booth is small and cramped, even with just the two of them inside, but there is a box of colorful items at their feet and Hinata's already sifting through them, pulling one out after the other to see what they look like in the screen's reflection in front of him.

“Hurry, choose a prop!”

“Which one?”

“Any one!”

Hinata clambers over his lap to press the start button on the screen, donning a pair of cat ears and oversized sunglasses, and he's already contorting his face comically at the camera when the countdown begins. Oikawa quickly follows suit, grabbing randomly at a police officer cap and a pair of aviators to place on his face just as the camera flashes, blinding them both momentarily.

In the first take, Oikawa's eyes are half-closed and Hinata's laughing off to the side. In the next, Oikawa's more prepared, and he's flashing a peace sign at the camera while Hinata mirrors his action from beside him. Feeling emboldened by the adrenaline and alcohol running through his veins, Oikawa turns his head to press a kiss against Hinata's cheek for the third picture, and the other man turns to stare at him in surprise when the last flash goes off, leaving them submerged in the sudden darkness that follows as the sound of the picture being printed whirrs in the background.

Hinata is still frozen in place staring up at him as Oikawa's gaze is unwittingly drawn down to the other man's mouth as he unconsciously licks his lips. There's a spark of _something—_ right there—Oikawa is sure of it. An unmistakable feeling of electricity running like a current in between them, but neither of them makes a move. Hinata turns suddenly to face the screen, and Oikawa sees the tell-tale sight of a blush gracing his cheeks.

_Was that his moment? Did he miss it?_ Oikawa wants to ask, or maybe scream in frustration, but Hinata is leaning forward towards the screen to press the start button again.

"One more time!" Hinata says, voice light and airy, purposefully not paying any mind to the growing tension between them as he reaches down to grab another prop from the box. Oikawa only goes along with it because he's not quite sure what else to do with himself at this point. 

Somehow, they end up doing about ten different poses—trading out wigs, glasses, and hats between each one. By the time they stumble out of the photo booth, giggling like mad when they send a picture of the best ones to both of their former teammates respectively, dinner has already been served and their plated meals are cooling at their tables.

Oikawa realizes just then that this is the point where they probably have to part ways. They both have different places in the dinner seating arrangement, and Oikawa already feels himself grow resigned as he turns to trudge back towards his own table. That is until Hinata breezes past him, holding a plate of steaming food in his hand as he looks back at him from over his shoulder.

"Where are you sitting, Tooru? I'll pull up a chair!"

For a moment, Oikawa just blinks at him, wondering when on earth Hinata was able to acquire his own plate of food so quickly. "Uh, over there," he finally says, pointing to where Ignacio and Alexis are waving at him from afar. In the night's excitement, Oikawa realizes that he hasn't even spoken to them all night. How had that happened? Hinata follows his gaze and his expression grows excited when he sees who he's sitting with.

“Oh! Are those your teammates? Can you introduce me?”

To no one's surprise, they spend the entire dinner talking about volleyball. Hinata is delighted to share his experiences playing on the beach and hearing what the team dynamics are like in the Argentinian league. Oikawa plays translator the entire time, and it's the first time he really feels comfortable doing so. He surprises even himself when he's able to transition from Spanish to Japanese seamlessly, and he feels almost like he's running on a high when Hinata turns to look at him in awe.

“You know your Spanish is really good, Tooru!” Hinata proclaims with wide eyes. "I'm kind of jealous! It took me almost two years to learn Portuguese, and Heitor still says I butcher it up all the time when I get too excited."

Oikawa feels a swell of pride at Hinata's words. He's not going to lie—it feels _really good_ to hear someone actually validate all of his hard work—like all of the months practicing late into the night, falling asleep to recordings of Spanish bedtime stories were finally paying off.

"Thanks, Shou-chan. I've been practicing a lot." 

“You’ve got to teach me sometime, okay?” Hinata beams at him. “I’ll even teach you a bit of Portuguese, too. Imagine the looks on everyone’s faces when we go back to Japan, and we’re fluent in not one, not two, but _four_ different languages.”

Oikawa likes the sound of that more than he wants to admit, and the smirk on his face probably reflects as much. “They’d lose their minds.”

Just then, the lighting in the room dims, and colorful backlighting appears on the walls behind them. The instrumental music that was playing lightly in the background promptly shuts off as the DJ comes back on the speakers, shouting excitedly into the microphone. 

“Vocês estão prontos para a festa!?”

Hinata hoots and hollers loudly when Nice and Heitor appear on the dance floor. The bride has changed out of her more elegant attire and into a more casual white dress, and the groom has discarded the jacket of his tuxedo, leaving him in his vest and bowtie. The music that starts to play is fast-paced and catchy, and Hinata is mouthing along to the lyrics of the unfamiliar song with a bright smile on his face as he watches his two friends perform a choreographed dance in the middle of the ballroom. His elbows are resting on his knees, one hand loosely holding a half-empty glass of champagne, and the other moves with the beat of the song.

Oikawa can't help but watch him. He kind of feels compelled to say something—anything, really—to just try and keep Hinata's attention selfishly honed on him, but then his eyes look off to the side to see yet _another_ unfamiliar male, looking to catch Hinata's attention from the other side of the table, and he finally remembers. 

_Oh._ He had almost forgotten. 

None of this was actually _real_.

“Hey," Oikawa calls out, voice soft, and if he wasn't so busy feeling sorry for himself, he would have seen the hopeful expression on Hinata's face when he looks over at him.

“What is it?”

Oikawa nods over to where he presumes Hinata's ex is currently striking up the nerve to come over and talk to him. “Why don’t we take this show to the dance floor?”

There is a moment of disappointment that flashes briefly over Hinata's features as he registers his words, but it’s gone before Oikawa can really think about it for long. Hinata glances at the other male out of the corner of his eye, before he promptly gets up out of his seat, flashing him with an almost forced smile. “I always wondered if you knew how to dance, _Grand King_.”

Not one to be one-upped in a challenge of any sort, Oikawa stands up as well. "Oh, I've got moves."

When a different song starts to play, the unmistakable Latin rhythm blaring through the speakers, Oikawa shimmies his shoulders to the beat, trying to get his point across.

“Oh no,” Hinata laughs at him, shaking his head in dismay as he raises a brow at the taller male. “That just won’t cut it!”

Oikawa shoots him an offended look. “What do you mean?”

“This is Brazil, silly,” Hinata states, a smirk on his lips as he does an impressive maneuver with his feet to the beat of the song playing as he slowly backs his way to the dance floor. “I don’t know how they do things in Argentina, but here it’s all about the _samba_.”

The _samba_ , Oikawa learns soon enough, is an extremely sensual dance, if the swiveling of Hinata’s hips is anything to go by.

Hinata tries to teach him step-by-step, but Oikawa's not really paying attention to any of the moves, more concerned with the way Hinata's hands stay fixed on his waist as he tries to guide Oikawa along to the beat. They’re both sweating and out of breath when the song switches to something slower, Oikawa is about to ask him if he wants to get another drink, when the guy that had been eyeing them from before appears at Hinata's side, looking determined and serious. Unlike _Gabriel_ from before, this guy is much larger and muscular. He towers over Hinata in a way that has Oikawa's fingers itching to pull the smaller man closer to him.

“Shouyou, posso falar com você?”

Hinata frowns at him, looking from the guy then back to Oikawa as he wipes a bit of sweat from his brow. "Saulo. O que você quer?"

“Eu prometo que não vai demorar muito,” the guy _—_ _Saulo?—_ says, even more insistently, stepping forward and placing a hand on Hinata's shoulder. Oikawa tries not to glare at the action, but he can't help but notice a shift in Hinata's demeanor. The orange-haired man is biting the inside of his cheek, eyebrows furrowed in thought as he regards the other man. Also unlike with Gabriel and the other exes they've encountered so far, this time Hinata actually looks _interested._

It hurts more than Oikawa will ever admit, but he tells himself that he can be selfless just this one time, and gives Hinata an out.  
  


“If you guys need to talk, it’s fine. I was just going to get another drink anyway.”

Hinata turns to look at him, still frowning. “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah,” Oikawa assures, and then for added measure adds, “Just don’t forget who your date is, right?” His words are light and teasing, even though he feels a sort of heaviness settle itself somewhere deep in his gut when Hinata nods his head in agreement, smiling up at him.

“I won’t take long. Promise!”

Saulo leads Hinata away with one last backward glance at him from over his shoulder, and Oikawa watches them go, trying to ignore the odd stirring in his chest.He makes his way back to the bar and orders himself a glass of mezcal, and the strong, smoky taste coats his tongue and makes him momentarily forget about his conflicting thoughts. 

He’s nursing an almost empty glass when he starts to get antsy. Four songs have come and gone now, and Hinata has yet to make a reappearance. Oikawa wants to go and check on him, just to make sure everything is okay, but his own pride gets in the way and stops him.

_This is all just pretend,_ he reminds himself firmly. _Don't be the idiot that catches feelings._

But there's a sense of urgency that coils itself deep in his gut, and after a moment’s hesitation, Oikawa downs the rest of his drink before he's getting up from his seat and retracing the steps where he'd seen the two disappear to. They had crossed the ballroom and turned a corner somewhere, he’s sure of it.

Oikawa almost misses them at first. He walks right by the door, when a muffled noise makes him stop in his tracks.

“Shouyou. Por favor,” a low voice says through the thin wooden paneling. Oikawa freezes in the hallway and turns to see that the door to the single-stall bathroom is partially opened. It's dimly lit on the inside, as though only one switch had been hastily turned on.

Oikawa doesn't need to know Portuguese to understand the words beings said. Even more so is Hinata’s heated response, unmistakable even through the mostly closed door.

“ _No!_ ”

Oikawa pushes into the room without a second thought, stopping in place when he sees Hinata shoved up against the wall of the restroom with the other guy towering over him. His hazel eyes are sharp and angry and when they flick over to Oikawa, they widen in a mixture of surprise and relief.

“T-Tooru.”

Saulo follows his gaze and turns to look at him from over his shoulder. 

“Diga a ele para sair, Shouyou,” the gruff voice states, and Hinata looks back over to him and shakes his head firmly.

“No. Você deve ser aquele a sair, Saulo.”

And for a second, Oikawa thinks the guy is going to put up a fight, that maybe he really is going to get the opportunity to act out the telenovela scene like he’d imagined, but instead Saulo backs away, looking between them with a frustrated expression, before sharply turning away and leaving the room.

Hinata’s shoulders drop in relief, his head falling back against the tile wall behind him. Oikawa takes in the sight of his now-disheveled appearance with narrowed eyes. His hair is mussed, as if someone had messily gripped it, and his tie is loose around his neck, his suit now wrinkled and out of place.

Hinata looks like he’s just been thoroughly kissed, and Oikawa’s not sure if it’s the alcohol or the surge of jealousy that has him seeing red.

“Really sorry about this, Shou-chan,” Oikawa says, echoing Hinata's words from earlier that night, before he is stalking forward and claiming Hinata’s lips for his own.

And this time there’s a noticeable shift from their kiss from before. Oikawa finds himself savoring it this time around, sinking into the heat of it. Hinata’s lips are impossibly soft, and they taste like the champagne they had been drinking before they went onto the dance floor.

When Hinata lets out a strangled, desperate noise at the back of his throat, Oikawa inhales sharply through his nose and grasps at the collars of his suit and shoves him up against the sink on the other side of him. Distantly, he hears something clatter to the floor—a soap dispenser, he half-registers—but, he pays it no mind as he settles himself between Hinata’s legs, licking into his lips with a reckless abandon, thrusting his tongue inside his mouth as Hinata whimpers and takes it, arms reaching out to pull him even closer.

And then suddenly, Oikawa rips himself away, ignoring the desire that curls deep within him when Hinata whines at the loss of contact.

“Is this—” Oikawa licks his lips, rasping, “Is this okay?”

Hinata’s jaw is slack and eyes still glazed over from being caught off-guard. He’s half leaning back on the sink and clutching onto Oikawa’s shoulder for support.

“Is this _okay_?” Hinata repeats incredulously. His hazel eyes suddenly refocus, gleaming with intent, and he pushes himself forward, stepping into Oikawa’s space and kisses him again, winding his arms around his neck, and arching his back into it in a way that makes him dizzy with want.

It’s the answer Oikawa needs to toss all sense of hesitation out the window, and he grabs Hinata by the waist to pull him away from the sink and shove him back around against the adjacent wall, pressing into him hard, like he’s trying to pin him there into place as he slants his lips against his. Hinata makes a plainative noise at the manhandling, his hands clutching at Oikawa’s hands for purchase, and it feels so damn good that Oikawa groans, low and deep.

He pulls back to nip almost playfully at Hinata’s jaw, and then further down the line of his throat, before leaning forward to press his forehead against his, huffing pants mingling with Hinata’s own as their noses brush, their wild eyes staring each other down.

“Is this still pretend?” Oikawa asks, and he’s afraid of the answer. Afraid of being just another person at a party that Hinata feels the need to avoid. The thought of it kills him.

But Hinata’s eyes crinkle at the corners and he moves his hands from where they are gripping at his hair to cradle his face, almost gently.

“I have a confession to make.”

Oikawa tries to think through the fog of arousal and alcohol to register the words, but it’s hard when he realizes yet again just how compact and perfect Hinata feels in his arms—he fits so well, like he belongs there—and the only thing he can say in response is, “Huh?”

Hinata bites at his bottom lip, and Oikawa’s eyes follow the action involuntarily. He wants to surge forward and claim his lips again, but he stops himself.

“I, uh,” Hinata stammers, his expression turning bashful, “Might not have been pretending?”

Oikawa feels the hope instantly flutter in his chest at his words, and he tries not to sound too eager, “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Hinata takes a deep breath and looks at him imploringly, “I _really_ like you, Oikawa-san. I’ve probably had a crush on you since high school?” Hinata huffs an embarrassed laugh at that, “And when I saw you here, I thought...maybe I could finally make a move. Even if it was one-sided...I didn’t mind pretending for a little while.”

“I’m sorry if I was too forward,” Hinata whispers, and when he tries to look away and drop his hands from his face, Oikawa grabs them firmly and holds them there, causing Hinata to look back at him with wide eyes, shuddering when Oikawa’s eyes seemed to sharpen and refocus on him. 

“You like me,” Oikawa repeats slowly, watching carefully as Hinata nods. “That’s—”

_Perfect. Amazing. Everything I could ever want._

“Good,” he says instead, already licking his lips when Hinata shifts, inadvertently rubbing against his crotch. “Really good.”

Oikawa leans forward to murmur in his ear, ”...Also, I thought I told you to call me Tooru.”

Hinata whimpers at the words, almost too quiet to hear, but his eyes are pleading, and the next thing Oikawa knows they are kissing again, deep and messy, and he’s grinding his hips forward like he’s trying to flatten Hinata into the wall behind him—wants to pin him there so he can’t ever think of moving.

Fortunately, Hinata doesn’t seem remotely interested in leaving. He moans into Oikawa’s mouth when the taller man lowers his hands to feel around his waist, fingers almost digging into his swell of his bottom. He’s pushing forward in time to Oikawa’s movements, shuddering softly all the while, and his reactions are driving Oikawa close to insane. He mouths at Hinata’s neck, urging him on, tugging at his ear with his teeth, hopelessly pleased when the smaller man’s movements become sharper, more erratic.

_More. More. More._

“Nhng—” Hinata almost collapses, like his legs have become too weak to support his weight, and Oikawa thrusts forward, both to prop him back up against the wall and also to feel the hard line of him against his own body. “Please, Tooru.” His hands are back in Oikawa’s hair, twisting and tugging as he buries his flushed face into his neck, trembling. “Don’t stop.”

Oikawa wasn’t planning on it.

His tongue is lapping and fluttering at Hinata’s pulse, pressing his teeth into the skin harshly, leaving marks in his wake. 

“G-god” Hinata mumbles, face pinching as his voice becomes breathier, “I can’t, I can’t—”

“You can,” Oikawa murmurs, voice firm, non-negotiable as he grabs Hinata’s legs and hoists him further up the wall, thrusting forward choppily as Hinata loses any semblance of self-control he had left, his head tilting back, eyes shut, looking completely debauched. _And perfect. Absolutely perfect_.

“That’s it, Shouyou. You’re so good, come on…”

And Hinata gasps, shaking at his words like they’re pulling him apart, and Oikawa’s grip on his waist must be painful, his fingers digging into the skin, but Hinata doesn’t seem to mind, doesn’t seem to notice as he continues to get lost in the sensation.

Just then the bathroom door slams open, and they both freeze in place to turn and see a slim, dark-haired guy standing in the doorway staring at them with his mouth agape.

“Sh-Shouyou?!”

“My God,” Oikawa grits his teeth, “If you tell me this is another one of your exes, I swear I’ll—”

Hinata’s face is redder than his hair as he shakes his head rapidly. “No! This is Pedro! My roommate! Pedro, alguma privacidade por favor?!”

The aforementioned roommate gawks at them for a moment, looking mortified, and quickly slams the door shut. “Vocês podem trancar a porta da próxima vez?!”

The interruption causes Hinata to let out an incredulous squawk of laughter, and when Oikawa turns back and they lock eyes for a good second, before they both begin laughing almost hysterically, the heat of the moment lost in the realization of what they had been about to do.

“Should we maybe head back?” Hinata suggests.

At the sight of him—hair messy, lips bruised from kissing, the marks on his neck and jaw starting to redden—Oikawa almost wants to say no, but he sets Hinata down anyway, hands remaining at his waist to settle him, smirking as he says, “Only if by back, you mean back to your place, then yes.”

Hinata grins, all impish and teasing as he looks him over. “Maybe I was wrong, Tooru. Maybe you _do_ have moves.”

Oikawa laughs, shoving him out the door and following him out. He’s not really interested in joining the party again, but he can’t help but be pleased with the fact that every single one of Hinata’s exes that sees him now will be forced to see every mark he’s left on his skin, like a brand showing that Hinata is _taken—_ so, please kindly _back off_.

**Author's Note:**

> (1) Title borrowed from "I think he knows" by, my girl, Taylor Swift. The bridge of that song inspired this story.
> 
> (2) Purposefully did not translate the Portuguese and Spanish because it was in Oikawa's POV and wanted to really highlight his (and my) frustrations with language barriers—BUT, if you want a laugh, use Google Translate to see what they're actually saying in those conversations.
> 
> (3) One more fic for OiHinaWeek, and it's the Soulmates AU (eeeeek!). Follow me on Twitter for more fic updates! 
> 
>   
>  [@earlgrey_mt](https://twitter.com/earlgrey_mt/status/1326882466326589441?s=21)
> 
> (4) And now with beautiful art from Soda!! [Oikawa and Hinata taking photobooth pics!! Plus Hinata’s confession hehe](https://twitter.com/sankyuuonigiri/status/1332623276452032513?s=20)


End file.
